


I Want to Say Hello

by spaceprincessem



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Erica and Boyd, Derek Hale Deserves Nice Things, Derek Hale is a Nice Thing, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Hale Fire (Teen Wolf), Stiles Stilinski Deserves Nice Things, Stiles Stilinski is a Nice Thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2020-07-16
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:13:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25316614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spaceprincessem/pseuds/spaceprincessem
Summary: “Hello!”Derek was startled right out of his shift, his grey-green eyes snapping open as he tried to find the source of the voice that had scared him. He didn’t have to look far as he found a boy, no older than eleven standing just in front of him. He had the widest, most innocent doe brown eyes Derek had ever seen. There was a timid smile curling on his lips, moles dotting his pale skin. He was wearing a red hoodie that looked slightly too big, the hood flopping over his messy brown hair. Derek had seen him before. He was the Sheriff’s kid.“My name is Stiles,” he said as he rocked on his heels, looking at Derek kindly, “and you looked sad so I thought I would come sit with you."
Relationships: Derek Hale & Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 20
Kudos: 578





	I Want to Say Hello

**Author's Note:**

> So, for the sake of this story in the first scene Derek is 15 and Stiles is 11

_I want to know you  
I want to see  
I want to say_

_Hello_

In. Out. In. Out. In. Out. In. Out.

He repeated that mantra over and over again in his mind, forcing his staggered breaths to follow. He felt something warm drape around him, a murmur of words, but the world around him felt very far away. All he could do was concentrate on the erratic beat of his heart and the burning in his lungs with every breath he took. Ironic, really, all things considered. He squeezed his eyes shut tighter, a sob rocketing through his chest as he slumped forward, fingers gripping the edge of the blanket resting on his shoulders. If he listened hard enough he could hear Laura’s terrified voice shouting in the next room over, broken by the sound of hysterical tears every now and then.

A few people had tried to speak to him, but when it was clear that he wasn’t going to give anything away they left him alone. He and Laura would be alone forever. He could still hear their screams, the smell of burning flesh permanently imprinted in his nostrils. It was his fault. All his fault. He had let her in. She had said she loved him. Made him feel special, important. It was a lie. All a lie.

_And it was all his fault_

He was hyperventilating now. If Laura found out she would never forgive him, not that he could blame her. He was not worth forgiving. Their deaths were on his hands. Just like Paige. He could feel the tears pouring hot and heavy over his ash covered cheeks, the desperate need to call out for his mother on the tip of his tongue. He knew he should have better control than this. He could feel his fangs beginning to dip below his lips, claws ripping through the blanket, digging into his skin. He wanted to run and run and run. And he never wanted to stop. He could feel his wolf howling desperately in his chest, grief, anger, and shame rolling over him like endless waves. He was going to drown and there was no one who could save him.

“Hello!”

Derek was startled right out of his shift, his grey-green eyes snapping open as he tried to find the source of the voice that had scared him. He didn’t have to look far as he found a boy, no older than eleven standing just in front of him. He had the widest, most innocent doe brown eyes Derek had ever seen. There was a timid smile curling on his lips, moles dotting his pale skin. He was wearing a red hoodie that looked slightly too big, the hood flopping over his messy brown hair. Derek had seen him before. He was the Sheriff’s kid.

“My name is Stiles,” he said as he rocked on his heels, looking at Derek kindly, “and you looked sad so I thought I would come sit with you.”

Derek just blinked, looking at Stiles dumbly, not sure what to say or do. The boy took his silence to mean he wasn’t being turned away and hoisted himself onto the bench next to Derek without hesitation. Derek’s eyes followed the boy, but he remained silent. He didn’t even offer Stiles his name. He wanted to tell Stiles to go away, but those words wouldn’t come out either. Derek faced forward again, tightening the hold on his blanket, going back to his silent pit of shame.

Apparently, Stiles was not one for silence.

“My dad’s the Sheriff, you know.” Stiles said, his feet swinging forward like he was incapable of sitting still. “That means I know all of the secrets of Beacon Hills, like how to get an extra candy bar from the vending machine in the break room.”

Derek threw Stiles a weary glance, but Stiles didn’t seem to mind as he continued talking.

“I really like Reese Pieces,” he said with a bright smile, “they were my mom’s favorite too. She would buy a bag from the store and we would split it, but I’m pretty sure she always gave me more.”

It was not lost on Derek that he had said were when referring to his mother. He vaguely remembered hearing about the Sheriff losing his wife only a year ago. He felt something inside him soften ever so slightly as he regarded Stiles, the boy still talking a mile a minute about candy. 

“Scott likes M&M’s, but hates Reese Pieces!” Stiles cried like he was mortally offended. “How can I be best friends with someone that hates Reese Pieces?” 

He looked at Derek, his amber eyes giving him a good once over. Derek shrunk back into the blanket, afraid Stiles would comment on the smell of smoke or the smudges of dirt and ash against his face.

“You look like you would like Reese Pieces.” Stiles said after a moment.

Derek internally sighed with relief as Stiles stammered on about other things. He talked about his favorite color, his favorite superhero, why science was cooler than math. He talked and talked and talked and talked and Derek couldn’t wrap his brain around a coherent thought, but he didn’t stop Stiles from talking either. The pain was obviously still so fresh, so raw, that his body ached with it, but his thoughts were no longer spiralling, his wolf surprisingly calm as the boy next to him continued to chat animatedly. He had to wonder if Stiles knew what he was doing. He was no stranger to loss after all. 

It wasn’t until he caught Laura looking at him through the office window, face broken, cheeks stained with tears that it hit him all over again. He sucked in a deep breath, his chest starting to heave as tears pricked the corner of his eyes. It was his fault. His fault. All his fault. A deep sob escaped him, making Stiles jump to his feet in surprise. His doe brown eyes filled with pain as he looked at Derek, lips trembling like he was about to burst into tears as well. Derek averted his gaze as Stiles took off, disappearing behind a door, leaving him alone again. 

It was more than he deserved. 

He was surprised to see Stiles running back a few minutes later with something big and fluffy stuffed under his arm. There was a determined look in those amber eyes and Derek felt his breath hitch in his throat as Stiles stopped right in front of him, holding out a stuffed animal. It was a giant, black wolf with bright blue eyes. Derek was taken aback, hiccuping slightly as he looked between the wolf and Stiles.

“My mom got this for me when she was sick.” Stiles explained, his voice soft, “She said when I get really sad or upset to just give him a hug and I’ll feel safe and protected.”

Derek was still looking at Stiles, his body tense, but said nothing.

“His name is Sourwolf,” Stiles continued with a small grin, “because his favorite food is sour gummy worms.”

“Stiles.” An older voice said, causing both boys to look up.

“Hey dad,” Stiles said with a smile before he set the wolf down next to Derek, moving over to where his father was standing.

“Sheriff,” one of the deputies said, “Melissa McCall is here.”

“Send her back.” The Sheriff responded with a small wave before he placed a hand on his son’s shoulder. “Son, I have to work late so you’re going to be staying with Scott and his mother tonight.”

Derek watched as the boy’s face brightened, he remembered Stiles saying something about Scott being his best friend. He felt an arm wrapped around his shoulder and noticed Laura had moved to sit next to him, her head resting atop his own. A few moments later a woman dressed in scrubs and another boy with dark, shaggy hair, yawning widely appeared.

“Scotty!” Stiles said as he rushed forward, wrapping his tired looking friend in a tight hug. Derek had nearly forgotten it was the middle of the night.

“Mmm hi Stiles.” Scott said, yawning again.

“Thanks, Melissa,” The Sheriff whispered, but Derek could hear them perfectly clear, “looks like I’m going to be here a while.”

“Don’t worry about it.” The woman named Melissa said, throwing him and Laura a sorrow filled glance. “If there’s anything else I can do…” 

Derek hated the tender expression in her dark eyes, because it reminded him so much of his mother. He could feel his chest tightening painfully. He would never see his mother again. 

“Come on boys, it’s past your bedtime.” Melissa said, turning away, ushering both boys towards the front of the station.

“You can borrow Sourwolf for a while,” Stiles said as he gave Derek a small smile, “I think you need him more than I do.”

Derek watched him disappear, his heart sinking at the quietness that now filled the station save for the background noise. His fingers slowly reached out of the blanket, wrapping in the dark fur of the wolf Stiles has left behind. He pulled it against his chest, inhaling deeply. It smelled like pine trees and Reese Pieces and sunshine. Derek held onto it a little tighter. 

-

“This is private property.”

He had recognized the boy instantly, those doe brown eyes forever imprinted in his mind. He had changed in the past six years, long, gangly limbs and messy brown hair shaved down to a buzz cut. He still had the constellation of moles dotted across his pale skin, face still soft and amber orbs bright.

“Hello, yes, sorry!” Stiles said, trying his best at an apologetic smile. “We, uh, were just looking for my buddy’s inhaler.” He said as he grabbed his dark haired friend, patting him on the back a little harder than necessary. “Right, Scott?”

Derek had to force himself not to smile as he continued to give both boys his best serial killer stare. After all this time Stiles and Scott were still friends. Maybe not everything had changed. But Derek knew what Scott had become and he knew what that could mean for their friendship. He fished into his leather jacket, tossing the inhaler in the air, Scott catching it easily.

“There you go.” He replied dryly. “Now leave.”

Both boys didn’t hesitate as they took off back through the preserve. Derek turned, only pausing in his step when he heard Stiles whisper, _“Dude, that was Derek Hale!”_ He wondered if Stiles remembered that day six years ago when they were both sitting in the station together. He had never given Stiles his name, but the boy seemed smart enough to put the pieces together eventually. 

Derek moved along the trees to the burnt remains of his family home. It was amazing how much his chest still ached at seeing it. He’d never thought he would return to Beacon Hills, but fate seemed to have different plans. Now he really was alone. Laura was gone. It only seemed fitting he stayed in this shell of a home as punishment. It was still his fault after all. He moved up the stairs, the door creaking horribly as he moved inside. He walked into what used to be the living room, an ash covered couch still sitting in front of the blackened fireplace. In front of the moth eaten couch was a small box. It held all of the things, besides his clothes, he had brought with him from New York. From his life with Laura outside of this hellhole. There were some books, a few pictures, and a giant, black stuffed wolf with bright blue eyes. He sighed heavily as he looked at the animal, running his fingers through the soft fur. 

“Looks like it’s just me and you.” He murmured as he leaned against the couch, hugging the wolf to his chest tightly. It smelled faintly of pine and sunshine.

-

Derek rolled his eyes as his betas shoved playfully at each other, ignoring the amount of boxes still left to grab in Stiles’ Jeep. At least Scott and Stiles were being useful - for once - by heading back out to finish getting everything. Lydia was busy strolling around tutting about where things should go and how Derek should be decorating his new space. He promptly ignored all of them as he began putting away books on a shelf. Finally, after his betas remembered they were supposed to be helping did they start to unpack boxes. Derek only realized his mistake when he heard Erica’s overly dramatic “aww” echo across the room. 

“This is so cute!” Erica said with a grin as she held up a giant, black stuffed wolf with bright blue eyes. “Derek, you’re such a softie!”

Derek’s eyes quickly darted to the door, but he could still hear Stiles and Scott fussing at each other through the window, which meant they were still outside. Isaac snatched the wolf out of Erica’s hands, examining it closely. 

“This looks old.” He said thoughtfully as he turned the animal over in his hands carefully.

“That’s because it is.” Derek growled as he took it from Isaac before Erica could get her hands on it again. 

He could see all three of their faces dropping at the comment, as if they realized how old it actually was. He pointedly looked away, holding the wolf to his chest before he decided to tuck it safely in his bed, out of sight of the others. When he looked around again the betas were busying themselves with unpacking the other boxes, but he could smell their sadness and a little bit of shame. Derek cleared his throat, his cheeks burning. He didn’t want his betas to feel bad about his past. He had worked so hard to move on from it, to build a new pack, a new family. He was working on feeling like he deserved to be happy.

“Isaac,” Derek said, trying to keep his voice gentle, “why don’t you order pizza for everyone.”

Derek could feel the tension lifting from their shoulders as Isaac smiled, giving him a nod in return. The loft door slid open, Stiles and Scott walking in, carrying the last couple of boxes together. Stiles was, of course, talking very loudly as Scott just shook his head in amusement. They placed the boxes on the ground in front of the couch and Derek, without thinking, gravitated towards Stiles.

“Hello, Sourwolf,” Stiles said brightly, “can’t believe you’re actually going to be living in a place that has walls. And a shower.”

Derek bit down on his lip, trying not to smile too widely at the nickname. He remembered when Stiles had first called him that and it nearly knocked him back to the day when the doe eyed boy held out the stuffed wolf, telling Derek its favorite food was sour gummy worms. He’d thought that would be the last time he’d ever see Stiles, but somehow they had found each other again. They were friends, hanging on the edge of _something more_ , but that thought was terrifying and Derek didn’t know if he would ever be ready to take the plunge.

“I can’t believe you actually carried up boxes and didn’t stand around ordering everyone else to do it.” Derek teased.

Stiles scoffed. “I can be helpful! I’m a good person!” There was a mock look of hurt on his face as he turned towards his best friend, “Tell him Scott!”

“Stiles, you carried like two boxes and made me do the rest.” Scott replied sharply from where he was sprawled out on the couch.

Stiles just grinned as he looked at Derek again, shrugging his shoulders sheepishly. “What can you do? Werewolf strength and all that jazz.”

They spent the rest of the evening unpacking boxes, eating pizza and enjoying each other’s company. Stiles was the last to leave, informing Derek he would be by in the morning to help Derek decorate. Derek figured it was going to be him doing all of the work and Stiles doing all of the talking, but he didn’t mind. He never minded Stiles’ endless babbling. It was actually really nice. When he was finally alone he pulled the wolf from its hiding spot, inhaling deeply. Even after all this time there were still the underlying smells of sunshine and pine. Of Stiles. Derek placed the animal on his night stand before crawling into bed, falling into a peaceful sleep.

-

Derek felt himself jerk awake, fingers digging into sheets, claws almost tearing through the fabric. His chest was heaving, sweat clinging to his skin as he blinked against the darkness. Rain was coming down in sheets, beating against his windows, thunder hammering loudly in the sky. He shakily reached out for the wolf resting against the pillow next to him. He brought it close, burying his nose in the fur, finding comfort in the familiar scent. The past few weeks had been rough. The pack was still recovering from the fall out of deadpool list. Derek had often snuck into his betas rooms, checking to make sure they were still alive, still breathing.

Beacon Hills had really thrown everything it could at them over the past year. They had been so close to breaking so many times, but still, they clung to each other and somehow survived it all. Although, they never made it out unscathed. Nightmares were their newest and most frequent member and sometimes Derek couldn’t decide which incident was more terrible to relive in his dreams. Stiles as Void was one of the particularly bad ones and he was glad those were growing few and far between. He held the wolf tighter against his chest. They had almost lost Stiles. Derek knew he wouldn’t have been able to survive _that_. Not after everything else had been taken away from him. He cared for his betas, his pack, but Stiles. He loved Stiles. 

Irrevocably and unconditionally. 

And there was no going back.

A soft knock on the loft door brought him out of his thoughts and he gently placed the wolf on the sheets before climbing to his feet. He quickly threw on a pair of sweatpants before padding over to the door. He was both surprised and not to see Stiles on the other side. He was dressed in sweats with his damp, red hood draped over his messy brown hair.

“Hello.” Stiles mumbled, shifting on his feet, “I, uh, couldn’t sleep.”

“Nightmares?” Derek asked, knowing the feeling.

Stiles just nodded and Derek moved aside to let him in. He watched as Stiles tugged the wet hoodie over his head, tossing it on a chair to let it dry. He dug into his pockets and Derek heard the rustling of a plastic bag.

“I brought some Reese Pieces to share.” He said as he waved the bag in the air as they moved to sit on the couch together.

“Way better than M&Ms.” Derek responded with a grin, earning him a bright smile in return.

“Damn straight!” Stiles said as he tore open the bag, dumping a decent handful into Derek’s palm before pouring out his own serving. “I can’t believe Scott prefers them over this peanut butter chocolatey goodness!”

“The betrayal.” Derek said with an amused smile. “How can you be best friends with someone who hates Reese Pieces?”

“I know! How-” Stiles paused, lips still parted, but his eyes narrowed as if he were deep in thought. After a moment he shook his head, lips curling into a half smile. “I’ve always known you’d like them though.”

Derek felt his cheeks going pink, wondering if Stiles had remembered, but the boy didn’t say anything further as he gave Derek another helping. As was the case with Stiles he began talking immediately. It was just random things, silly things. Like who was going to prom with who, the most recent Marvel movie - which, he saw with Stiles, but decided he liked hearing him talk about it anyway - the dinner party Lydia was planning for all of them, Scott’s birthday gift idea, and whatever else came to his mind. Derek listened without interruption, smiling when Stiles used his hands to further his point. He felt like he could do this forever, listen to Stiles talk about anything, everything. It made him feel calm and grounded. It wasn’t until a large yawn interrupted his sentence for a third time that Derek decided they should try to catch a few hours of sleep.

“Mind if I just crash on your couch?” Stiles asked as he made to grab a blanket.

“The bed is bigger.” Derek said before he could stop himself. He was suddenly terrified he made a huge mistake as Stiles’s eyes widened.

“Are you sure?” Stiles asked. “I don’t want to impose…”

“Not at all.” Derek said, sighing with relief. Stiles had always respected Derek’s boundaries and he could never thank Stiles enough for it.

“Okay.” Stiles replied with a soft smile as he followed Derek towards the bedroom. 

Derek paused to quickly flick off the lights in the living room. He froze in the doorway when he caught Stiles looking down at the stuffed wolf sitting on the bed. He’d forgotten he had left it there when he went to answer the door. He swallowed the lump forming in his throat. Stiles had given him that wolf nearly eight years ago and he hadn’t bothered to return it, not even when they had grown close. He’d always thought about it, but he couldn’t bring himself to let it go.

“Hello, Sourwolf.” Stiles whispered as he sat down on the bed, picking the wolf up carefully. “It’s been a while.”

Derek hesitantly moved closer to Stiles, watching the boy carefully. His heartbeat was steady and his scent didn’t sour with anger, in fact, Stiles smelled like warmth and happiness. His doe brown eyes found the grey-green ones watching him anxiously. 

“I can’t believe you kept him,” Stiles murmured, “after all this time.”

“You gave him to me.” Derek responded simply. 

Stiles nodded his head. “I did. You needed him more.”

Derek sat down on the bed across from Stiles, the latter pulling his feet up to sit cross legged, the wolf resting in his lap. Derek watched as his long, nimble fingers traced through the fur, eyes watching Derek with a fond expression

“I didn’t think you remembered that night.” Derek said softly after a moment.”You’ve never talked about it.”

Stiles chuckled. “I figured you didn’t want to remember one of the worst nights of your life, but I never forgot meeting you.”

“Me either.” Derek said, a half smile curling on his lips. “I never spoke a word to you, not even a ‘hello’ or my name, but you just kept talking to me anyway.”

“I’m good at that.” Stiles teased as he nudged Derek with his foot, a grin on his face. After a moment it melted into something more serious, his gaze dropping to watch his fingers in the dark fur. “My dad had been called in that night and since my mom passed he had to bring me with him. When I saw you sitting on that bench it was like looking at a reflection of myself a year before.”

Derek hesitantly reached out, hand hovering above Stiles’ own for a moment, stuck in gravity, before cold fingers laced through his own. Derek felt his heart skip a beat and heard Stiles’ do the same, but the boy still had his eyes in his lap.

“I know the dark places your mind can go when you lose someone you love,” Stiles continued, his thumb brushing against Derek’s hand, “and I wanted to help you. I had so many panic attacks after my mom died and weirdly enough I found the best way to stop those spiralling thoughts was when someone would talk to me.” Stiles laughed. “Ironic, considering I’m the talker. I don’t think Scott was used to saying so much, but I caught him reading through a random facts book just so he didn’t run out of stuff to say.”

“It did help,” Derek murmured, “you know.”

Stiles beamed, squeezing Derek’s hand. 

“I was blaming myself for what happened.” Derek said quietly. “I was the one who let Kate in, thinking that she loved me, when it was all just a lie. I almost went full wolf when you said ‘hello’.”

“It wasn’t your fault.” Stiles said. “And you deserve all the happiness in the world.”

Derek nodded his head. It was something his pack had instilled in him everyday, until he believed it. Sometimes he was still terrified to take the things he wanted because he feared he would lose them all over again, but Stiles was still here. He was real and warm and safe and he was here.

“I wish I had been brave enough to say hello.” Derek said, noticing that Stiles was somehow closer, their faces inches apart. Stiles had his lips parted, amber eyes bright even in the dark.

“It’s never too late.” Stiles whispered.

Derek summoned all of his courage, closing his eyes, and closing the distance between them. The kiss was sweet, soft, and full of yearning. Stiles scrambled to pull Derek closer, hands coming up to cup Derek’s cheeks. They were pressed together, the wolf sandwiched between them. Derek deepened the kiss, because he had never been one for words, so this was his way of saying everything he had wanted to over the past eight years. 

It was Derek saying: 

_Hello, Stiles, I love you_

**Author's Note:**

> So, I based this off of lyrics from the song "Trees" by Twenty One Pilots. I was listening to it and I just had the desire to write a post Hale fire fic with Stiles and Derek. It seems very plausible that Stiles could have been there considering his dad was the Sheriff at the time (or at least I believe he was). It's kind of sad we didn't get to see more flashbacks to that night or anything! 
> 
> Also, this was gonna be way shorter and just be the scene with them at the station and then I just couldn't stop writing oops lol. Anyway, we love soft boys in love! As always thank you for reading! Let me know your thoughts!


End file.
